


Red

by TheBohemian



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern, Bad Pick-Up Lines, But he's oh so charming, Eren is as dense as a rock, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Wingman Connie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-12 23:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7128920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBohemian/pseuds/TheBohemian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin Arlert works as tech support. Eren Jaeger is technology's worst nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The manga happened, and I'm back with a vengeance.  
> @isayama meet me in the fucking pit
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: Ratings, characters, and pairings are subject to change as the story progresses  
> [Current rating is based on language]

Armin Arlert led a life painted exclusively in various shades of grey. He was the bitter feeling of Sunday nights bleeding into Monday mornings. He was a hazy city skyline, choking in its own smog. He was a rolling thunderstorm on the day of a picnic, lukewarm tea, and the feeling of wet socks. He was every mild inconvenience thrust upon humanity that left a sinking feeling in the gut and a small tear in the heart.

He was bland, and he was dull; a mirror's reflection of the hum-drum life he directed, but he was content.

 

His daily ritual was shrouded by consistency, day in and day out: silence the blaring alarm clock, brave yet another cold shower because the hot water heater couldn't quite figure out how to function in the early morning, throw fighting words at the coffee maker until it would begrudgingly begin to drip, leave for work half an hour earlier than necessary, and stay at the call center hours longer than he was scheduled. Rinse and repeat.

He was a grey man, living a pointedly unexciting life, but for reasons unknown to Armin and everyone around him, he genuinely enjoyed it. On most days, his job as tech support gave him a feeling of purpose and usefulness. Unfortunately, though, today was just not one of those days.

 

His first caller of the day was also his most agreeable.

"This phone y'all sold me ain't worth a shit," was his growling way of saying good morning. Immediately, Armin felt a headache coming on.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Armin wasn't sorry at all, and he had to dig deep inside himself to find a professional tone that held an ounce of sincerity. "Please allow me to help you with that."

"You're damn right you're gonna help," the customer retorted, "I ain't callin' you cause I like the sound of your voice, princess."

The call lasted forty-five minutes, and Armin swore he felt his soul leave his body three separate times throughout the duration of it. If he was foolish enough to believe that he'd reached rock bottom at nine in the morning, he'd be dead wrong.

 

With four hours until his lunch break, Armin powered through 3 new callers. Each grated on his nerves, and all were unapologetic about it. 

A woman with a voice shrill enough to shatter glass demanded to know why she was getting no emails on her new phone. Did she have an email address? Of course not. How did she receive emails before? Her old computer came with an email address, obviously. How could Armin not know that? After multiple insults and a curse word or two, she demanded to be handed to a supervisor. More than happy to oblige, Armin transferred the line and checked the time; an hour an a half had passed.

A man who sounded as dead inside as Armin felt was his third call of the day. He pleaded for someone, anyone, to help him speed his laptop up. It wouldn't even load Facebook, how, pray do tell, was he expected to survive without Facebook? Armin had no idea. 

Finding the computer's control panel took ten grueling minutes, finding the Hard Disk Drives was yet another adventure that Armin hesitated to embark on, and cleaning files from the Hard Drive was an entirely different beast. In the end, the customer accidentally wiped all the files. He cried over the phone, and Armin had a hard time not doing the same.

His headache showed no signs of relenting.

Lunch was calling his name. Connie Springer, the best friend God has cursed him with, taunted him from the desk across from his own. Mouthfuls of salad were shoveled into his mouth, big enough to make breathing a struggle. When Armin sneered, he only laughed. Once he finally choked, Armin almost felt ashamed for laughing.

When Connie lifted two middle fingers his way, any semblance of pity he felt immediately disappeared. Thankfully, though, the traces of a smile still played on his lips.

Finally, mercifully, the crying fest came to an end. Armin apologized profusely for the other man's misfortune, despite having no fault in what had happened, and continued in his litany of regret as he placed the phone gently in the cradle. 

Connie raised an eyebrow, salad now tossed in the trash. "The hell did you do?"

"I--" The phone rang. Armin almost wept. Meanwhile, his company snorted.

"Sucks, dude."

 

Armin picked up the phone, tried to introduce himself, and failed miserably when an elderly lady overpowered him.

"Young man," she began, voice quivering, "why is there a naked woman on my computer?"

Clearing his throat, Armin rested his forehead on his desk. He felt Connie watching him, and he could hear everyone in the vicinity look on and huff a laugh. "What do you have typed in the web browser?"

"The web browser?"

"Yes ma'am."

"What's a web browser?"

"It's like Google."

"Oh sweetheart, what's a Google? I don't want to buy any Googles. That's the problem with you people!," She declared, "always trying to sell something to us poor folk who just want to learn how to use the Internet," she huffed just as Armin sighed, "now, my problem is that it says here that single ' _hotties',"_ she sounded thoroughly disturbed, "in my area want to spend a night with me. And she's naked!" The horror. 

"That's just--"

"Disgusting," she said.  _A pop up_ , Armin had tried to say.

"Back in my day," she started on her own tangent, and Armin felt his eyes roll back in his head, "we didn't have to deal with this... this promiscuous behavior. We had morals. You know, I was married to the same man for 56  _years_. We didn't need strange sex women on the internet to feel accomplished. We had real needs. We had-" sometime during the tirade, Armin began to gently bump his forehead against the cluttered surface of his desk. He hoped for unconsciousness or death.

All he received was a more intense version of his previous headache. She never stopped talking. 

Intermediately, Armin tried to offer his advice to rid of pop ups, but was spoken over as she raged on about youth, and hotties, and why web browsers were the Devil's work. 

Eventually she had herself so outraged that she hung up by her own free will, and for a moment Armin considered that God just might be real. When Connie slid warm food his way, he had absolutely no doubt in higher powers.  

 

 

The day never really got better, rather Armin became more apathetic. People yelled, they belittled him, they called him every foul name that came to mind (there were quite a few clever ones), meanwhile; Connie had convinced Armin to play a round of paper football, and Armin barely heard a word. 

Hours ticked by in elongated seconds, until slowly the number of people he was surrounded by began to dwindle. Connie jerked his head towards the elevator as he collected his coat. "You wanna hang at my place tonight? I think I convinced the chick from the Activations Department, y'know Sasha?, to come over and watch the game. You should come, too."

Armin waved his hand, noncommittal. "I'm gonna stay here for a while. I have to catch up on some paperwork." He gave a humorless laugh. "I didn't get much done with being on the phone all day and everything."

If Connie frowned, he concealed it before it ever settled on his face. "Cool, cool. The door's open if you wanna stop by later though." He side stepped and waved as he walked out. Despite the fact that Connie was far gone, Armin waved back before his hand fell limply to his desk. 

"Hey," a voice snapped Armin's eyes to attention, "be sure to lock up when you leave, kid." His floor supervisor and something-like-a friend, Moblit Berner, spoke as he flipped various light switches on his way out. "And don't be here too late. It's a Friday night. Enjoy life a little; the company can survive without you for a night. Your work ethic is creepy."

"Creepy," Armin repeated. His chin rested in his palm, and the position distorted his forced smile. 

"Yes," Moblit confirmed, "much like that expression. Don't look at me like that ever again."

This time, the smile reached his eyes, and Armin giggled. "I'll try my best."

With a nod, Moblit stepped inside the elevator when it chimed, and the doors creeped open. "Night, Arlert."

The doors closed, and Armin was alone. 

 

Paperwork was the last thing Armin wanted to do. Minutes were wasted by beating his pens against his desk, making another five cups of coffee, and browsing social media websites only to be reminded of his own crippling loneliness. 

Part of him almost considered walking to Connie's townhouse. It was minutes away by foot, and the office surely wouldn't miss him. Stubbornly, he sat firm in his seat, and watched the clock rather than the game. He kept company with empty desks and whirring computer fans rather than with Connie and his blossoming new love interest. 

As soon as his self-pity filled head hit his desk, the phone rang, and Armin scrambled back, nearly toppling onto the floor. 

While making sure his heart hadn't leapt from his chest, Armin shot a bitter look at the phone. It rang in return. A hesitant hand hovered over the phone; it retreated back and inched forward in a tedious cycle, before finally Armin jerked it out of the cradle. An act of self hatred, Armin was absolutely sure that that was the only way to categorize what he'd just done.

"Thank you for calling Maria Consumer Aid, this is Armin speaking." Throughout the entire day, Armin had yet to get this far in his intro. He was taking it as a good sign. "Could you please provide me with your name and reason for calling?"

"Holy shit you're still open," said an unbelieving man on the other end. 

Two heartbeats passed while Armin examined the empty office, blank monitors, and dim lights. "Not quite," he admitted, "Your name?"

"Eren," the other man practically shouted, hurriedly. "Uh, Eren," he said more calmly. "Eren." 

"And reason for calling?"

"I'm an idiot," the laugh that followed the statement made Armin's blood spike. "But if you're not open, I can call back tomorrow. I mean, like... like I said-- I'm kind of an idiot. This might take a while."

It was just a passing thought, but for a moment Armin considered that he might not mind if it took hours. 

"I can try to make this as fast and painless as possible," Armin said, "for both our sake's."

"Dude," the customer- Eren -whispered, "you just might save my life." 

Armin found that a lopsided smile had sneaked onto his face. He hid it behind his hand and denied it was there at all. "Let's hope so." 

 

As it turned out, Eren Jaeger was technology's worst nightmare, and he broke everything he touched. This became evident to Armin when, despite his best efforts to help, Eren still managed to fuck up his sister's laptop even worse than before he'd called. 

" _Why is everything upside-down?"_  He'd cried.

"Just-" Armin sighed, "just stop touching things. Is it okay if I take control remotely?"

"Please," Armin had never heard someone so defeated. Even the man who had sobbed over the phone earlier that day didn't hold a candle to this kind of hopelessness. 

 

While Armin worked in the computer settings, Eren watched and talked. 

Boy, did he talk. 

"How long have you done this?"

"This job?" Armin asked as he mindlessly clicked around the control panel.

"Yeah," Eren confirmed. 

"In years or in hours?"

"Is there a huge difference?" Eren asked, sounding amused.

Armin hummed idly. "When you work 60 hours a week, it feels like there is."

"God  _damn_ ," was the eloquent reaction, "now I feel even worse for keeping you."

"You aren't keeping me from anything exciting," Armin offered, "I'm not all that social."

"How could you be working like that?"

"It's not all that bad," he felt almost defensive, "I learn a lot about people doing what I do. Eyes aren't the window to the soul anymore, electronics are. It's more fun this way."

"Yeah..." Eren said, voice trailing in thought. "How many people's souls are literally nothing but porn, oh Wise One?" 

"There's a reason God doesn't talk to us anymore," Armin retorted. The barking laughter he earned made Armin swell with pride.

"Oh! Wanna see my soul?"

"Isn't this your sister's laptop? That's why your life was in danger?"

"We have the same passions," Armin heard the smile in the other man's tone. 

Biting his lip, Armin smothered a smile of his own. "Considering you were just asking about porn, I'm almost concerned."

"Dude." He sounded truly affronted. "That's what we have an external hard drive for. You have to keep it classy when you're trying to impress the tech support guy."

"Right, classy." He paused and thrummed his fingers against the desk. What did he have to lose in indulging his new customer and learning about his life? They'd likely never stumble upon each other again, and his day had been shit. There was no downside. "Bear your soul to me," Armin said, finally. 

 

Eren's soul, apparently, looked a lot like a breath taking picture of a man he claimed to be himself, a stunning woman who he claimed to be his sister, and a Pomeranian puppy that was more fur than anything else. Her name was Titan, he was informed. They looked so happy, glowing. Armin found himself smiling back at their faces captured in time.

It was his sister, Mikasa's, wallpaper. Eren was proud of it. 

"There's no way that's you," Armin finally settled on saying once he'd fully taken them all in.

"A real hunk right?"

"That isn't exactly what I was going for," Armin snorted.

"Listen, puberty did ya man a solid. You should've seen me when I was a kid." Eren audibly shuddered. "I'm just glad my parents didn't feed me after midnight. Who knows what would've happened then?"

"Horrifying."

"Shit, who are you telling? I had to live with that Gremlin face." 

"I'm sure you didn't look like a Gremlin," Armin argued. "They were hairy weren't they?"

"I did though! Hair and all, I swear to God," Eren said through bubbling laughter. Armin could hardly understand him. "Next time I'm gonna download some baby pictures to show you. You're gonna eat those words."

Despite knowing the likelihood of a 'next time', slim to none, Armin went along with him. He hoped optimism suited him. "I'll look forward to it."

They found themselves swimming in silence. Armin had long since finished his work, but was having a hard time admitting to it. He clicked around aimlessly to fill the empty space in the conversation. "It's getting pretty late," Eren finally spoke. 

Regretfully, Armin checked the struggling analog clock across the office. Ten P.M. Two hours had passed in the span of a few minutes.

"It is," he agreed. An inexplicable heaviness settled in his chest. His fingers anxiously clenched the phone.

"I'm really sorry I kept you this long. I just- I thought it would be quick, and then I couldn't shut up."

There weren't possibly enough ways for Armin to express how much he didn't mind. He'd enjoyed it, actually. "At least you won't die now, right? The screen is right side up, and we managed to recover all those word documents. Your sister'll let you live to see another day."

"Yeah," Eren snorted, " _we_  fixed it. Go ahead and give yourself all the credit. I'll only pout a little."

Armin hummed. The weight in his chest gained a few pounds. 

"Thank you," Eren quickly tacked on, leaving no room for Armin to speak, "y'know for helping me, and being a really great person, and stuff. I owe you one."

"I'll keep it in mind," Armin informed him as he shut his own computer down for the night. 

"Yeah, well," Eren cleared his throat to chase away a breathy laugh. "Bye, Armin."

Armin swallowed hard and offered a stiff nod, a show of resolution only he would know about. His fingers had gone numb from the tightness of his grip. "Feel free to call us anytime." 

The pause that followed was pregnant, and Armin was convinced he'd already been hung up on. Just before losing all hope, Eren piped up.

"I'll keep it in mind." 

Armin could've been fooling himself, and he probably was, but he could've sworn there was a smile hiding in those words. He hoped he'd heard a hint of promise, too.

 

With the phone held firmly in the cradle, Armin leaned back in his seat and stared upwards, hands folded over his stomach. The ceiling tiles were old and in desperate need of retirement, old paint was flaking from cinderblock walls, and, from somewhere in the office, something smelled vaguely like rot. Everything around him was grungy and dank, falling apart at the seams, yet somehow Armin felt alive. Electrified. 

For a brief and fleeting moment, the grey world that Armin had built around himself began to dissipate, and there was a brilliant spark of red. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life marches on and leaves Eren Jaeger as a distant memory, but thanks to his catastrophic luck with electronics, Eren comes crashing his way back in due time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M A TERRIBLE AUTHOR  
> Just a heads up I had to change Jean's character, and he's no longer the office supervisor  
> He had a more important place to fill in this chapter
> 
> I'm sorry, I'm sorry I know I suck but it won't happen again OTL

"Dude," Connie called for Armin's attention while kicking his feet onto his desk. With no tact and little grace, he dropped the phone he'd been using just moments before, and despite aiming for a safe landing, he missed by a mile. It tumbled and clattered against the hard plastic of the cradle before bouncing twice on the desktop and sliding to a stand still. Multiple harsh glares whipped in their direction, but while Armin shrunk away, Connie paid no mind. "How do you feel about meat?

Armin straightened in his seat and squinted as if staring directly into the sun. "What?"

"Meat," Connie replied without offering even vague clarification. 

Abandoning his own work, Armin stared wordlessly at Connie, curiosity piqued. "I got that part, what about it?" 

"How do you feel about it?" Connie asked.

The squint Armin wore intensified until he could barely see through his eyelashes. They were hopeless and going no where at this rate. 

Sensing that, Connie sighed and brought his feet to meet the ground; when they crashed against the floor, another round of angry stares were cast their way. Unperturbed, he leaned against his desk, arms crossed to support his weight. "Sasha's parents are having a barbecue tonight, and I told them you were gonna be my plus one."

"Shouldn't Sasha be the plus one?" 

"Armin, my man, in an ideal world she'd be my only one. But, alas," cue another, more dramatic, sigh, "her parents said they have an issue with my character. Something about being too rowdy or too loud or something." He made an unbelieving noise by pushing air through his teeth. "I'm just as stunned as you are. I'm great."

Armin was, in fact, not in the least bit stunned. Still, he played along.

"Amazing," Armin added. 

"I have astounding character!" Connie continued, blind to the incredulously look Armin was drilling into him. "Anyway, I have to prove that I attract good and wholesome friends."

"You're using the plural version of the word friend," Armin noted.

"I am."

"Why?" Armin blew air through his nose, a silent laugh. "I'm all you've got."

Jaw unhinged, Connie leaned further forward with a finger pointed at Armin. Words seemed to fail him as his mouth tried to speak but made no sound. After elongated seconds of nothing but stammering, he gave up on processing thoughts into sentences and allowed his hand to fall limp. The betrayal faded from his face as he breathed an offended huff. "I'm only upset because I can't say you're wrong," he muttered, embracing defeat. 

"You might wanna work on that," Armin said as he turned back to his computer and typed more nonsense than was absolutely necessary. He only needed to seem busy. "I can't go."

"Armin," Connie bellowed, laying flat against the surface of his desk and breaching Armin's territory while doing so. Armin raised an eyebrow but made no moves to stop him.  

"I've got work," Armin offered the same weak excuse he always did, "why not ask someone else around here? What about Ymir?"

Connie flung himself back to drape across the back of his office chair, arms thrown up in exasperation. "I have to make a good impression! You call _that_ a good impression?"

With a wide sweeping motion of his arms, Connie showcased their coworker's cubicle between splayed hands. Despite Ymir being completely out of view, the two middle fingers she displayed over the top of her cubicle drove Connie's point home. "Fuck you, Connie," said her faceless voice.

"You see?!" Connie practically screeched and his head crashed down onto his desk. Armin was sure he'd only barely dodged breaking his nose with the dramaticism of it all. "Help me Armin-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."

Gently, Armin lifted Connie's forehead just far enough off the desk to make eye contact. "No," he said, but not without traces a guilt flooding his veins. 

"But I don't know anyone more boring or parent-friendly than you," Connie complained, batting his eyelashes and silently pleading.

Armin rolled his eyes. "Flattery isn't earning you any favors. Thanks for that, but no."

"It's a compliment," Connie defended, "I'm just saying you were born to impress parents." Armin didn't fail to see the way his lower lip jutted in an exaggerated pout. 

"Absolutely not," Armin refined his answer. 

"Fine," Connie sat upright with his arms crossed over his stomach. "Fine. I'll just stay single forever. Catch me spending every waking second at your apartment. Eating your food. Stealing your cable. Loudly sobbing every night to ease the weight of my loneliness." He clicked his tongue. "We'll probably have to share a bed too. I hate sleeping alone."

Armin propped his chin in his palm. "Why do I have to play babysitter?" Valiantly, he fought the fond smile that threatened to pull at his lips; he lost. 

"Because, I don't have the plural version of the word friend, remember." His friend fired back, and Armin laughed despite himself. "And all you have to do to save yourself from this round the clock torture is go to one barbecue."

"Can I say I'll think about it?" Armin asked despite knowing the answer. "Because I'll think about it."

Impossibly, Connie's pout became even more pronounced. "I hope you remember this very moment when I'm fifty and alone and still eating Cheetos on your couch in my underwear, because that's exactly where this is headed," he said. "By that time, I feel like I'll probably have graduated from boxers and moved onto something a little more form fitting. I'm thinking tighty whities. "

A look of disgust washed over Armin's face and he wheeled his chair back slightly, creating a more notable distance between himself and Connie. "And to think I was looking forward to eating lunch later."

"Get used to it," Connie was unapologetic as he stared into space, squinting as if he was envisioning his future of prolonged suffering and loneliness playing out before him. "One day, it won't only be mental imagery. It'll be your reality."

"Oh my God," Armin rubbed his forehead. "Fine, Connie.  _Fine_. But I'm not staying the entire time. You get an hour."

Connie gasped and apparently inhaled sunshine in the same breath because his eyes glistened and his voice jumped an octave. "Even better, dude! They'll just think you're dedicated to your work, and maybe you'll rub off on me. I'll look like I make good choices," he beamed. 

"Meanwhile, I made a terrible choice in befriending you," Armin sighed. It'd only been seconds since he'd agreed to go, but already his brain was firing excuses the danced on the tip of his tongue. Forcefully, he swallowed them and took in just how happy Connie was. 

Connie barked a hearty laugh. "Thank God you're a pushover then. I'll make it up to you."

Armin glared with no malice, and Connie's smile only amped up the brightness until it was damn near blinding. 

"I'm holding you to it."

 

Calls poured in at a steady rate after lunch had passed.

 

Some had issues with televisions, all varied and equally frustrating.

Some claimed the WiFi wouldn't connect to their new Smart TV. "It says the password is wrong, and it can't identify the server! I don't have a password," the customer complained.

"Some router brands come preinstalled with a password, have you checked the packaging?" Armin asked.

"Shit," was the reply, "I ain't paying for Internet; I'm stealing my neighbors."

Armin began to count the number of times his eyes rolled. 

 

One customer had Armin troubleshooting his TV remote for half an hour because it wouldn't work. The problem, come to find out, was that it had no batteries. The customer was overjoyed by the realization; unfortunately, Armin couldn't say the same for himself.

 

An elderly called in because their grandson had kicked a soccer ball through their box TV. "Could Armin replace it?" No.

"Could you at least seem like you want to help us?" They asked.

"No," Armin wanted to say.

The eye roll count was reaching well into the low twenties. 

 

Other people called in with more short lived phone calls.

One had locked herself out of her new smart phone by not remembering the pattern lock she'd set up. How was she supposed to know she needed to remember it? "Smart phones must not be that smart if they can't even remember a small pattern," she declared.

Another man called in because his files weren't saved onto his SD card. He explained that he'd formatted it before moving it to his new phone, and Armin, for the 25th time, rolled his eyes. 

"Did you happen to see the pop up message about erasing data when formatting the card?" Armin questioned.

He had. Did he read it? Of course not. 

Eventually, he was connected to a teenager who said something about genitals and then something else about genitals hypothetically being lodged in an Xbox.

Every good man has his limits, and Armin was sure those were his. He hung up immediately. 

 

"Your eyes are going to roll out of your head at this rate," Connie laughed as Armin smashed his phone against the hook. 

"If they did, I don't think I'd complain," Armin said resting his face in his hands.

"Good news is that work ends in 10 minutes." The good news didn't stay good for long as Connie continued. "Then we go to a party and stuff ourselves."

Armin groaned weakly, and Connie's laughter became downright boisterous. 

"That's the spirit." 

 

People began packing up their things with five minutes till the end of their shifts. Computers were being shut down, chairs pushed in, and purses, coats, and wallets were being collected by their rightful owners as they trickled out of the office. Slowly, their company dwindled until Connie and Armin were left alone. 

"Alright, man time to pack it up," Connie instructed, "Concerned parents and charred meat await us."

"I just need a second," Armin clicked aimlessly around his computer screen. All those excuses his brain had provided him with were gone now; he desperately needed them back. Time was running out, Connie was tapping his foot, and Armin's anxiety was spiking under his intense gaze. 

"Second's up," Connie jerked his head back towards the elevator, "Sasha's waiting for us, and she definitely won't take any of your lame-o excuse--"

The shrill ringing of the phone sliced Connie's sentence in half and it died on his lips. The excitement in Armin's face registered in Connie's eyes and suddenly both men lunged for the phone. 

"Don't even think about it!" Connie shouted, hurdling his own desk and laying across Armin's, arm outstretched. Armin won thanks to proximity alone. He yanked it from the base and held it up to his lips with a greeting that was both rushed and breathless. 

"Thank you for calling Maria Consumer Aid, hold please."

When Connie sneered, Armin held up a victory sign that was promptly swatted from the air. 

"Hang up, we have to go. It's past business hours anyway," Connie hissed.

"I'll just need five minutes!" Armin pleaded, "text me the address, I'll walk."

"I don't trust that."

This time, it was Armin's turn to pout, and Connie sighed heavily. "Remind me why I'm friends with you again."

"I'm all you've got," Armin replied.

Connie nodded, and took in a deep breath as he mulled over his limited options. "Five minutes. If you're not at her house in fifteen minutes, I'm calling the police."

"Deal," Armin held his hand outstretched.

Connie hesitated and studied Armin's face. Unable to detect any insincerity, he held his hand out, and they shook.

"Fifteen minutes, Arlert. Starting now," Connie called as he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

"Fifteen minutes," Armin confirmed in a voice loud enough he hoped Connie could still hear him before he turned his attention back to the phone. "Sorry for the delay," he said into the phone mic, "could I please have your name and reason for calling?"

" _JAEGER_ ," was the response that was loud enough to make Armin hold the phone away from his ear. Despite the distance, Armin could clearly hear what was happening on the other end of the line. " _JAEGER, I GOT SOMEONE HURRY THE HELL UP."_

Armin could distinguish loud footsteps and violent banging on a closed door. 

" _Er-"_ loud bang, " _ren._ "

"Jesus christ, give me a second," a second man roared. Something, or someone, fell loud enough for Armin to hear.  

"He's gonna hang up, and you're gonna be a mile up shit creek without a paddle," the first man said, his once erratic tone now dripping with nonchalance. "And probably a leaking boat. Basically, you're gonna be fucked."

"Thanks. Thank you for the clarification I absolutely did not need," there was something muttered after that. Armin thought it sounded vaguely like "you ass cork."

Padding footsteps carried Armin, on the phone, away to somewhere quieter. "He's taking a shit," the original man said, "I'm Jean by the way, if it matters. I'm not the one who needs you, but I feel like we've bonded today and you might as well know my name."

"That's a valid way to feel," Armin confirmed, clicking speakerphone and laying the phone on the desk. "We definitely have. Armin."

Jean hummed. "Y'know we were on hold for thirty five minutes. I was near tears; Jaeger was bordering on a breakdown. I think when you answered, he got so excited the shits just hit him. It's been a wild ride."

"Wild, indeed," Armin's shoulders rose and fell when he breathed a laugh. "I'm free to hold, though. It's only fair considering you did for over half an hour."

"Nah, nah," his offer was denied, "no one deserves to be put through that. It really tests human limitations. I'm gonna get him."

Blissful silence extended over the line for fleeting seconds. From somewhere in the distance, Armin heard Jean yelling again. "Eren, he said if you don't hurry the fuck up he's gonna start charging for his precious time." Again, Armin laughed; he turned on speakerphone and waited. He twirled pens on his desk, shot rubber band at the nearest trash can (missing every shot), and stared at the clock until it seemed like time had stopped. He vaguely registered that 10 minutes had passed, and Connie was definitely going to call the police.

A slamming door and the distinctive sound of a hard slap brought Armin's attention back to the customers he'd found himself trapped with. "You're an asshole, you know that?" Armin recognized his voice as the second man to be introduced to the call. "A useless asshole. Give me the phone."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

Armin heard another slap and a 'fuck you'. A door clicked closed and the background noise ceased. 

"Sorry. I'm so sorry," the new man apologized, "my roommate is the bane of my existence."

"Sometimes I feel that way about my best friend," Armin said, earning a genuine laugh. "Could I have your name and reason for calling?"

"Uh, Jaeger. Eren. Eren Jaeger." 

 

Something about the man was familiar; his voice, his laughter, and that  _name_. He recognized him. It'd been months since they'd last spoken, and Armin had all but forgotten him.  Life marched on, as it tended to, and left Eren Jaeger to be a distant memory, but he came crashing back. Loud and full of life and color, he blasted through the haze of Armin's memory, and every recollection surrounding him was crystal clear.

Without warning, Armin felt his heart leap and beat against his throat. A godawful choking noise was the result. 

"Are you okay?" Eren asked sounding more worried than one should for a complete stranger. "Should I call an ambulance? Dude, I don't even know where you are; I can't witness a death like this. I don't even know your name."

Despite blushing ferociously, Armin was okay. Embarrassed and flustered, but okay. "I won't die," Armin said quickly, "no deaths today."

"Okay, good," Eren laughed and the sound faded into a soft hum, "you know, I said I don't know your name, but I swear to God you sound so familiar."

Armin fought not to give into hopefulness, but it was in vain. "Really? That's strange," he clung to oblivious nonchalance as best he could, but the slight quiver in his voice was more than enough to give him away. 

" _Yes_ ," Eren sounded exasperated. "God dammit hold on; I got this. I remember you work way more than any person should, and you said you didn't have a social life, and I told you about how I looked like a Gremlin until puberty blessed me." He breathed a frustrated sigh, "we were on the phone for hours but it just felt like a couple minutes, and talking to you was really easy. I think I distracted you more than anything and probably made your job a lot harder than it had to be but you didn't complain. You just helped."

The was a short pause followed by a low laughed, "you know, if you're the person I'm thinking of I'm gonna seem like a real jack ass for not remembering your name, and if you aren't that person then I just made myself look like a huge idiot, and I'll have to hang up immediately. I'm a pro at digging my own grave."

"I am too," Armin said and hoped it provided some kind of comfort. "My name is Armin, and you're right about all of it. Except being a distraction," his neck and the tips of his ears warmed exponentially, "you were just good company."

"I'm so dumb!" Eren's words were trapped in an audible smile. "Your name is so unique, and I'm so dumb," the way that Eren laughed made Armin's heart skip a couple beats. "God, do you know how many times I've called this place since the last time we talked?"

"Your file says 46," Armin supplied him with the answer he didn't really need. 

"46 times, Armin! 46 calls, and I didn't get connected with you once. I'm saying the universe is working against us."

"Well, you know what they say: '47th time's the charm,'" Armin said.

"That's much more believable than 'third time's the charm.' I'm a fuck up; I require way more times than that," Eren rambled and Armin saw no reason to stop him. His voice was smooth and soft and made Armin's sharp edges grow fuzzy. "Anyway," Eren's voice retreated into sheepish territory, "now that I've made this call thoroughly awkward, I really do need help."

"Did you need help those other 46 times, too?" 

"I feel you judging me from there," Eren said, "so, I neither confirm or deny."

"That's all the confirmation I need," Armin raked a hand through his hair to hide his face in his arm. He wanted to blame the blush that dusted his cheeks on the embarrassment from the beginning of their call, but he knew it was a blatant lie. He didn't feel embarrassed, he felt elated. 

When they eased into comfortable silence, Eren took the time to educate Armin on his newest technological mishap.

"Okay so my dad's a doctor, right?" Eren began.

"Okay," Armin confirmed that he was listening.

"He's got a bunch of fancy ass lab equipment which I'm absolutely forbidden from touching, which is fine, like, whatever, I don't really care about the doctor-y stuff, I just needed to borrow his laptop."

"So, you couldn't borrow your sister's again?" Armin asked.

"No, Jean told her I almost destroyed it the last time. He has a raging crush on her and a burning need to destroy me, so it worked out really well for him. Anyway, I spilled water on my own, so it's being sent off for repairs, and Mikasa won't let me within 50 feet of anything she owns."

"For good reason," Armin interjected, and Eren chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah. So I'm told. Like I was saying, I was running on limited options, and dad's out on some conference, so our childhood house was empty and begging to be broken into. I was just like 'hey, what's the worst that could happen?'" A heavy sigh broke his tirade of information, "I need you to stop me before making bad decisions, Armin. Where are you when I need you to save me from myself?"

"What happened?" Armin tried his best to ignore the fact that Eren had admitted to needing him. 

Long story short, he'd jammed the CD player, cut off the trackpad sensitivity, and uninstalled the graphics driver. He'd also broken a basement window getting into the house, but he figured there was little Armin could do to fix that.

"You're a really destructive human being," Armin's laughter overpowered the dismayed groan Eren gave.

"So that means you can't fix it?"

Armin scoffed. "Of course I can fix it. It just might take a while, if you have the time."

That was a lie. Not only was it a lie, it was a bold faced lie. Even with the most ignorant of customers, Armin could have resolved that list of issues within the span of ten minutes. Yet, forty minutes had passed, and Armin hadn't fixed a single problem yet. 

Eren didn't seem to care or notice at all, he only kept on talking. He was made of boundless energy, and no mute button. When he spoke, Armin listened, and time moved around them.

"You're really good at what you do," Eren said while Armin typed new notes in an open file. 

Armin shook his head, though the action wasn't seen by a soul. "I'm no better than anyone else here."

"No, no! You're great; I could never do what you do. Much less be so smart about it," Eren shuffled at the end of the line, "did you always want to do this with your life?"

"No," Armin answered blunt and honest. "This was never really a plan of mine, but, uh, school fell through and life happens."

Eren hummed to show his understanding. "What would you rather be doing right now? If you could be doing anything in the world? If distance or school or life couldn't get in the way?"

Not much thought was required, Armin had known what he wanted out of life for ages. The older he got, though, the faster it slipped through his fingers. "Ichthyology, studying deep sea fish; preferably living near an ocean and away from the city. It'd be really freeing, don't you think?"

"I live near a beach!" Eren announced, and there wasn't a hint of bragging. "Well, everyone calls it a beach. It kinda sucks, I'm not gonna lie, but there's water and sand and fish, so I guess that counts for something." A sharp gasp pulled Armin away from his computer. "Armin, you should visit sometime! That way you'll be able to see if you like the lifestyle before moving. That'd be awesome, right?"

"Very awesome," Armin agreed while adoration bloomed in his chest, leaking into his veins. Rationally, he knew Eren wasn't serious and that the offer was void the moment it left the other man's lips, but still he felt warm.

He felt happy. He felt overjoyed, even. He felt at peace.

Most of all, though, he felt as if he'd found home, and he felt royally screwed.  

 

Near the tail end of their call, Jean made a reentrance. He was just as loud and pushy as he had been when Armin had made his acquaintance, but he did yell profuse apologies as he forced Eren into motion.

Armin heard something about tutoring, something about being late, and approximately 8 different clever nicknames that were all inappropriate for public use. 

Over Jean's shouting, Armin heard Eren swear to call back and then there was a soft click and the line fell flat.

He was left in silence, but he couldn't find it in himself to be sad. Sure, he felt mildly disappointed, but it wasn't nearly intense enough to brush the dopey smile off his face. From across the office, Armin heard the elevator rising and coming to a standstill. As expected, Connie was there when the doors slid open.  

"You're never that happy after helping anyone," Connie said immediately suspicious. "Especially if you're talking to them for longer than half an hour. What's up with that?" He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and took wide steps into the office.

Armin shrugged, hiding his face as he stooped to collect his bag. "I'm just in a good mood I guess."

"Uh-Huh. You're gonna have to stay the whole time now, you know," Connie said, "we're gonna be super late, and you have to atone for your sins."

"We?" Armin asked, slinging his stuff over his shoulder, "you went on with Sasha didn't you?"

"Nope!" Connie announced as he mashed the elevator call button. "You really thought I was gonna trust you to walk, alone, to a place you've never been to an event you don't want to attend in the first place? Pssh, please. I might not be as smart as you, Armin, but I know how you work."

Armin nodded, seeing the point he was trying to make.

"Besides, I don't think I was entirely wrong in my assumption that you wouldn't come. You spent an hour on the phone, and you look like you enjoyed yourself," Connie cast a side eye to Armin as they waited for the street to clear before crossing. "Now, that's something."

"It truly was something," Armin agreed. 

Connie didn't push for details but he did cast sly glances at Armin while they waited for the street to be clear enough to walk through. "I don't really understand what's going on in that head of yours most of the time," Connie admitted, "now is one of those times."

Armin offered a small smile, and gave an answer as simple and honest as he could. "Right now, I don't either," he said, "I really don't."

Life, for Armin, had always been a marching series of completely predictable events. He lived a mundane life, felt mundane feelings, and fell easily into dull patterns that turned into a lifestyle Armin maintained with ease. His grey, unimpressive life met rolling waves of vivid color when he came into contact with Eren Jaeger. 

Their chemistry was confusing, disorienting, and foreign; it left an electrifying feeling that made Armin feel awake, alive, and more than just _okay_. 

He was positively giddy, and it was terrifying that someone so far away had that much of an affect on his psyche.  

 

They walked on in silence, Connie had a comforting arm slung over Armin's shoulders. Multiple curious glances and raised eyebrows were thrown his way, but Armin acted oblivious to them all. 

"I only know one thing for certain right now," Armin said eventually, and Connie perked up at the attention, "I'm a mess."

"Buddy," Connie chortled and slapped Armin hard enough on the back that he felt a lasting hand print. "I could've told you that years ago, but at least you're finally seeing it."

Armin frowned, eyebrows knit. 

"Come on," Connie directed him to an upscale brick house swarmed by haphazardly parked cars and buzzing people, "let's go drown your sorrows in hot dogs and man hugs. Tell Papa Connie everything."

Armin didn't need a second prompting. He followed Connie through a maze of people, grills, and expensive furniture, and once they were finally alone, he told all there was to tell. 

 

He talked about Eren. He told Connie how his presence made life more technicolor. He swore that Eren bled life into every person he came in contact with, and how, despite that, he seemed to break everything he touched. 

He expressed that he couldn't explain the stupid smile he wore when Eren spoke or how his blood felt electrified at the sound of his voice. Nothing he could ever say was dull, boring, or not worth hearing; Armin was willing to drink in his every word for as long as he would let him.

He could listen to his laughter for days, hear stories about his family, his friends, and his life for months, and be content to be by his side for years to come. 

There was nothing Armin was more sure of than that.

He craved more contact that he couldn't have.

They were miles apart. They were strangers to each other, and their only form of contact was a phone line shared by thousands of people daily.

"It's so stupid, " Armin summed up his tale, rubbing his face with his hands. He felt tired and strung out.  

"Stupid how?" Sasha asked, having joined their conversation as soon as she saw Connie from across the property. 

"It's just--" Armin sighed. "It just is. We don't know anything about each other; how can I like someone  _this_ _much_ without knowing a single thing about them?"

"You know he has a roommate," Connie offered.

Sasha agreed with a bouncy nod. "You know he has a sister, and a dog, and that his dad is a doctor."

"You know what makes him laugh _and_ how to make him laugh," Connie added. 

"You know his full name, too," Sasha said, "you know a lot more about him than I knew about Connie when we first met, and you've only talked to him twice."

Connie hummed his validation. 

"I can't even describe how he makes me feel," Armin covered his mouth his his hand. His entire face burned. "I just know it's new, and it's addictive."

"It's happiness," Connie said simply. "I've known you since we were in middle school, man, and I can't remember a single time when you were happy with where your life was going."

"I was prone to being melodramatic," Armin tried to justify himself.

"No," Connie said, "you just didn't believe you were worth more than what you were being given. If this guy makes you happy, I don't care who he is or where he is, I'm not letting you pass him up."

Sasha giggled and leaned against Connie's side. "Me either, Armin. Count on us."

"Now stop looking so blue," Connie chided, "you've got a party to attend and a man to catch. Life's looking up for you." Connie opted for patting his shoulder as he stood.

Armin wrinkled his nose and smiled as tears pricked his eyes.

Hooking his arm around Armin's neck, Connie pulled him into a hug. Sasha was short to follow as she wrapped her arms around Armin's waist and squeezed with all her strength. The contact was far too tight to be considered comfortable, but too nice to want to pull away from.

In the end, Armin couldn't keep the tears at bay forever, and he would've sworn he heard his friends sniffle a little, too. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a groovy day


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wish you had a wingman like Connie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update only took 6 days and is probably my fastest one yet.  
> I'm flexing because I'm proud of myself. You can't see it, but know that it's happening. 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter  
> ヾ(｡･ω･)ｼ

Connie had a self-proclaimed "brilliant idea" to find Eren, but he swore he couldn't reveal it to the world until it had been fine-tuned and polished to a delicate shine. In order to do this, apparently, he needed Sasha and space. So, when both of them ran off, zig zagging through throngs of people, Armin was left very much alone amongst a sea of strangers. 

Panic would've been Armin's go-to option under normal circumstances, but it never came. He almost felt light, and his head was still kind of swimming; he blamed that on losing circulation in the restricting group hug. It'd taken 6 minutes to worm his way out of it and though his arms had felt numb, his head remained the same, the real culprit, he knew, was a dizzying kind of happiness he wanted to bottle. His chin tipped a little higher, his steps were a little wider, and his shoulders held just a slight air of confidence as he wove through the crowded backyard in search of an entrance to Sasha's family home. It wasn't difficult to weasel his way inside and find a decently secluded place in an area that resembled a den. 

Not entirely sure of what to do with himself or who to strike up conversation with, Armin fell into the company of a single lamp and pulled an old book from his bag to occupy himself with. 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed. The crowds seemed far less dense every time he would look up, and the noise had dwindled down to soft chatter rather than yelling matches for attention. A third of his book had been flipped through, but he didn't retain a single word. He was considering returning back to the beginning and starting over when someone cleared their throat above him.

"You're much smarter than I am," a younger man said from across the room. "Bringing a book, it was a good idea," he clarified.

Dumbly, Armin nodded while his mouth struggled to form words. "I just-- it's-- thank you," he finally managed. "It goes where I go," he patted the bag at his feet. 

"Ah, I should invest," he said with a lilt of a laugh lighting his words. The stranger flashed a bright, toothy smile that crested his eyes so tightly they could barely be seen over his lightly freckled cheeks. "Is it okay if I join you? I promise I'll be quiet, I just don't want to be out  _there_ anymore."

He waved his arms in the direction of the party-goers. Sympathizing, Armin nodded. 

"Great!" He laughed again, this time more heartily, and fell onto the couch adjacent from Armin. If Armin had a hard time focusing on his book before, it was near impossible now with foreign eyes drilling into him as he tried to focus. "Is that any good?" The man asked, breaking the tense silence in the room.

Armin shook his head, closing the book over his hand. "Not really," he admitted. 

His newest acquaintance drew his eyebrows together, and his mouth fell in a harsh slant. "So why are you reading it?"

"I've read it three times, actually. I keep hoping that maybe it'll get better the next time."

With his head tilted to one side, his company offered a crooked smile. "I don't think it works like that. Why not just read something new if it's so boring?"

Armin shrugged. "Maybe I have a hard time with change. I also read based on suggestions. I can't really make good decisions on my own."

The man audibly gasped, and his eyes lit like stars. "I have a pretty hefty book collection; I could recommend some titles if you wanted me to?" He clapped his hands together when Armin nodded a silent yes. "Do you have anything to write on?"

Without regret, Armin ripped out the last page of his book and handed it over along with a pen from his bag. When the paper was handed back to him, a phone number and the name 'Marco Bodt' was scribbled onto it. 

"That's my cell phone number," Marco explained, and Armin didn't miss the nervous blush that spread across his cheeks and reached the tips of his ears. "You don't- you don't have to use it if you don't want to but," he shrugged, "I've run out of good things to read, too. And I figured it might be nice to have someone to talk to about these kinda things."

His follow-up grin was hesitant. 

"Thank you," Armin said immediately. The tension that spread across Marco's shoulder's immediately dissipated. "Connie isn't really into the same things I am, so I appreciate it. Really."

Now, Marco nodded with his hair falling into his face. "I understand. Sasha and I are the same way, but you have to love her."

Armin nodded. "Connie seems to feel the same way."

"Who are you telling?" Marco laughed, "he's put me on the market for a new best friend. They really do go together well though, don't they?"

"Like peas and carrots," Armin agreed. 

Armin watched as Marco's face scrunched in disgust. "More like coffee and sugar."

"I take mine black," Armin felt the smile coming on before he could reel it back.

Marco looked truly, completely offended. "I have to demand my phone number back. This isn't going to work."

"It's too late," Armin snapped his book closed with the phone number inside, "tough luck."

"Pfft," Marco didn't miss a beat, "I'd like to think luck is on my side right now."

Armin tucked his book in his bag. "I was thinking the same thing actually. That book was literally killing me."

 Marco laughed, but kept his words to a minimum. Quiet flooded the small room they found themselves in, but now it came with a more comfortable air. 

"So, you know Sasha?" Armin finally asked. 

Again, Marco's head bobbed. "For way too long. We were in JROTC together in our Freshman year of high school."

"You two don't really seem like the military type," Armin pointed out and earned a hum as confirmation. 

"You're telling me," he replied, "I wouldn't have lasted a day in the real military. I dropped it as soon as I could, and Sasha followed me."

"What'd you take in its place?" Armin asked.

"Teen living. I can take care of a robot baby better than anyone you know," Marco seemed to take a huge amount of pride in this accomplishment. 

"Now that seems more tailored for you," Armin drew his legs up and Marco laid across the cough he'd chosen.

"You know me well enough already," Marco's lips apparently fell naturally into a smile even when his face was otherwise neutral. He was a comfortable presence to be around, and the conversations came easy. 

 

The sun had long since settled below the horizon, and the party had all but come to an end before Connie finally came to find Armin. 

"There you are!" Connie announced loudly enough to get the remaining guests to cast curious glances over their shoulders. He stood in the open doorway with his arms splayed wide open.

Armin thought he heard Sasha calling for Marco from the upstairs portion of the house. 

"Here I am," Armin stood and nodded at Marco as he passed. "I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Sure," he offered an enthusiastic wave that Armin barely caught as he was towed out the front door. 

 

"You know," Armin said as he and Connie walked back towards his apartment complex, "I never even met Sasha's parents."

"Huh?" Connie pointed a confused gaze directly at the sidewalk before a switch flipped and realization dawned on him. "Oh! No, dude. They love me. I just needed to lure you in. I knew you wouldn't go out and have a good time without _some_ kind of bait."

"So you lied to me," Armin deadpanned though he felt no betrayal.

"I did it for love. The love of you. You need to get out more, you know that?" Connie looped an arm over Armin's shoulder. The man had no knowledge about the concept of personal space, and Armin had long since given up on teaching him. Now the constant touching felt something like comfort and enveloping warmth. 

"I know that," Armin didn't put up a fight. Wide-eyed, Connie pulled back and held Armin at an arm's length. 

"Seriously? You're not gonna call me wrong and tell me your life is perfectly normal?"

Armin sighed. "It  _is_ normal, but I think I'm getting tired of it." Their maintained eye contact fell away when Armin cast his eyes towards the road. "The routine and the indifference just... it gets old."

"Aw, hell," Connie sniffed and drew Armin into a suffocating hug, "my little boy is growing into a man."

Lightly, Armin returned the embrace, patting comforting hands against Connie's back. "I'm still older than you are," he reminded him. 

"I know," Connie squeezed harder until Armin had a hard time breathing. He didn't complain, though; Armin only returned the favor, and they held each other in the middle of the sidewalk. People complained as they shuffled and elbows their way past. "This is so gay," Armin heard Connie whisper into his shoulder. 

"Very," Armin laughed as Connie pulled away and rubbed at his eyes.

"Dude," Connie prompted, grabbing Armin's wrist, "you know what we should do?"

Armin didn't speak, but he figured if one could look like multiple question marks, he was mastering it. 

"We should go to a Karaoke Bar."

"Connie, no."

A mischievous glint caught Connie's eye, and Armin was positive that it wasn't the result of surrounding street lamps. "Connie, yes," he argued, gripping Armin by the sleeve and hauling him forward.

Though he tried to pretend, Armin couldn't find it in himself to fight the idea. Connie was elated, and the buzz he radiated was in the air. Armin breathed it in and felt it tingle against his skin until he, too, felt undeniable enthusiasm. 

 

Connie was a terrible singer, but that didn't stop him from taking the stage every chance he got. As he fueled himself with alcohol, he became louder and more than willing to dance or take on back up singers. 

Once he'd powered through Girls Just Want To Have Fun, Don't Stop Believin', and Every Rose Has Its Thorn, he finished off by serenading a few individuals in the front row to the last few notes of Total Eclipse of the Heart. When he bowed, he knocked the mic over and offered his contact information as he came off stage. 

"I'll work weddings and birthday parties," he announced, "I'll also consider funerals!"

"How drunk are you?" Armin laughed as Connie fell into the booth seat beside him.

"Not at all, actually," Connie beamed, "I'll never see these people again, what do I care if they see me at my most stupid?"

"Good point."

"If it's such a good point, why don't you follow by example?" Connie pushed himself onto his feet and held out a hand.

"Absolutely not," Armin scooted himself against the wall, as far away from Connie's hand as possible. 

Not allowing for escape, Connie leaned in closer. "Aaaaarmin," he coaxed, "if you do this, you'll be the furthest away from your boring life you've ever been. Share this moment with me, Samwise."

Armin shot a glance filled with nothing but malice, and Connie  _giggled_  in return. Swirling smoke cast a haze over Armin's eyes, and suddenly he felt lost in the atmosphere. Loud music rattled his bones and dripped into his bloodstream. He smelled cigarettes, sweat, and alcohol mingling, and he felt small in the wake of bolstering laughter and loud conversations.

He heard bad jokes, pick up lines, and outraged shouts all across the room. Connie cleared his throat demanding Armin's undivided attention. "All these people are too drunk to remember their own names, much less how you sound up there. One song," he continued, "we can even make it a duet. These people can't get enough of me."

Four tense heartbeats passed before Armin allowed Connie to take his hand. 

They decided on Say My Name by Destiny's Child.

Connie was in the zone. He knew every lyric word for word and was able to sing them with unbridled passion. Armin mumbled nonsense into the mic and enjoyed the show that was Connie Springer in all his glamorous glory. 

Connie had been right. He'd stepped far past his old monotonous existence, and the view from the other side was far brighter. 

 

They walked home with linked arms and relative silence. It was only relative because Connie couldn't seem to ever keep his mouth shut. 

He talked about how he'd missed his true calling as a pop star, how nice Sasha had looked that night, and how he was glad Armin had made Marco's acquaintance. 

"Y'know, Sasha and I were gonna try to set you two up," Connie admitted. "Before the whole Eren thing." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Armin pushed him lightly and shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"You guys are gonna be great friends," Connie said, sounding as if he was pondering the thought himself. "Don't forget me."

"As if you'd let that happen."

"Too true," Connie watched the sidewalk pass beneath them as Armin studied the sky. Dark clouds blotted out stars and the moon fought tirelessly to not be taken by the same fate. 

Honking horns, rolling thunder, and the sound of blinking neon kept them company when the words ran dry. 

"You seem happy," Connie said as they waited for a crosswalk to clear. The alcohol on his breath was evident, Armin didn't have to face him to see the dopey smile he was undoubtedly wearing. 

"Probably because I am," Armin said.

"M'glad, dude. I'm real freaking glad," he landed a light punch on Armin's upper arm. "I'll walk the rest of the way on my own, kay? You get home and sleep. Your old man bones aren't used to the Con-Man nightlife."

Rolling his eyes, Armin waved him off. "Call me when you get home so I know you're alright."

"Alright, mom," Connie shouted as he took wide, swinging steps on his way home. Ducking his head, Armin shuffled across the street and made it home in record time. Storm clouds hovered and rumbled, but they never broke.

Instead, the clouds dissipated and the sky was illuminated with a million shining stars. Some of them fell and cascaded across the wide expanse of the heavens. The full moon shone like a spotlight, and Armin basked in it. 

 

**(4:30) Attached Image.**

**(4:30) Is this ur man???**

The text from Connie came at 4:30 that morning when Armin was still, regrettably, awake. 

 **(4:32)** Are _you stalking strangers on Facebook?_

 **(4:33) No!!!**   **Answer the ? tho**

 **(4:37)** _That's not Eren, no _

**(4:37) dammn he's a slippery one**

**(4:37) i'ma keep looking**

**(4:40)** _Go to bed Connie _

**(4:44) u first i've got business to attend 2**

**(4:45)** _Is this your brilliant plan then? It took you all that time to polish the idea of Facebook stalking?_

**(4:50) ;)**

There was a pause in the messages, and Armin was in the middle of putting his phone away when it vibrated one last time.

**(5:06) only 1/2 of it, smartass gn arm-man!!**

**(5:06)**   _Goodnight, Connie_

 

The second half of Connie's plan was even more stupid than the first. 

"Let me get this straight," Armin rubbed his temples as Connie nodded eagerly, "you're going to transfer literally every single caller with the name Eren, or any variation of it, to me."

"Yep! I got Sasha in on it so you're gonna get Activations calls, too," he gave a thumbs up, and Armin swatted it out of the air

"Why does this feel like a huge headache for me?" Armin asked.

"Because it is!" Connie laughed and fell into his own desk chair. "But it'll be worth it in the end, right?"

"What if it isn't?" Armin challenged, and Connie scoffed. 

"It will be," he cracked his knuckles and shuffled forward until he sat flush against his desk. "Let's get the fun started, shall we?"

 

At the end of the day, Armin had talked to 4 Aarons, 2 Arrons, 3 Erins, and 1 Earnest alongside his regular callers. 

Exhausted didn't begin to cover how he was feeling. 

"That's rough, buddy," Connie didn't sound the least bit sympathetic. "Hey," he perked up, "he normally calls after hours, right?"

Staying later than was absolutely necessary was the last thing Armin wanted to do, still he nodded. "Yeah, he has every time I've been connected with him. But that was only twice."

"I've never talked to the same person more than once," Connie said, "those are pretty good odds, if you ask me."

"Well, I'm not asking you," Armin pressed his face into his desk.

Connie reached through the distance between them and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, I'll stay with you. It is my brilliance that's sailing this ship, anyway."

Armin huffed. "Fine. I don't have anything to do at home anyway."

"You should get a pet," Connie said while waving other people out of the office until only the two of them remained. 

"I can barely take care of myself, Connie."

"Get something like a fish," Connie offered, "I have one, and he's a pistol. You might really enjoy it, and it gives you a bonus hobby. That's exactly what you need."

"I should've figured this would turn into time for a lecture," Armin rested his chin on his folded arms. "Anything else, dad?"

"Give me time to think on it," Connie said, "all in due time, son."

Armin rolled his eyes. 

 

Connie kept Uno cards in his desk, and Armin quickly learned that Connie considered it a competitive sport. 

There was a lot of yelling, accusations of cheating, and, at one point, Connie threw the hand he was dealt across the office. Forty-five minutes of playing resulted in Connie losing 5 times while Armin only admitted defeat once. Defeat and dejection followed the raging betrayal, and Connie coped by lying face down on the floor. 

"Is that helping?" Armin inquired, nudging Connie with his foot.

"I will bite your leg off, Arlert," he growled. "Let me grieve."

Armin laughed to himself and slouched back in his seat. "You don't have to stay here, you know. I'm sure Sasha would probably appreciate the time with you."

Connie propped himself onto his elbows, head resting on his right shoulder. "I want to be here," Connie was genuine, "this is a pretty big deal. Hey! Have you found him online yet?"

"No," Armin raised an eyebrow, "I'm not a creep like you."

Connie disregarded the insult with a one-shouldered shrug as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "I'll be creepy enough for the both of us."

 

They went home defeated without a single phone call or Facebook post to show for their effort. Dusting off his shirt and tie as he got to his feet, Connie still offered reassurance. 

"Same time same place tomorrow?" He asked, "we'll catch him for sure."

Nodding, Armin gathered his things and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Same time, same place," he confirmed. 

 

Three weeks passed without even a ghost of a mention of Eren Jaeger. Connie was resolute in his mission to catch him, though, so Armin stayed hopeful as well. There were upwards of 89,000 Facebook pages under that name, and Connie and Armin had filtered through only a small portion in their time spent together. Though he'd never admit it to Connie, Armin had taken to searching for him in his spare time as well.

Twitter, YouTube, and Instagram became his new best friends in his fruitless search.

There were many times when Connie would send Armin screenshots of Facebook profiles in the early morning hours.

At the end of each day, though, both Connie and Armin came up empty handed.

 

"I'm starting to think you made him up, Arlert," Connie said from where he laid across a co-worker's desk. "The loneliness got to you, and you finally snapped." His hands rested on top of his face and muffled his words, but Armin heard him crystal clear from where he lounged in his own chair. 

"I'm starting to think you might be right," Armin raked his hair back. "Ready to call it a night?"

Groaning, Connie rose like the dead and stretched his arms high above his head. "Yeah, I just--"

The phone rang. Connie had eyes like saucers, and Armin jerked upright. Connie was the first to make a move for the phone, spinning with enough ferocity to fling himself off the desk top along with a cup full of pens, a stack of papers, and a stapler. While Connie was down for the count, Armin made a move for it, but was beaten when Connie pulled himself onto his knees and slammed his hand against the ringing phone. "Fuck, I'm too old for this," Connie hissed. "Maria Consumer Aid, Connie speaking. Can I have your name and reason for calling?"

Armin leaned down to draw his bag over his shoulder, knowing better than to hope for anything other than another false alarm. "Holy shit," Armin heard Connie say before there was a lot of loud scrambling as Connie tries desperately to get to his feet, during his struggle he banged his hand against the desk to grab Armin's attention. It worked beautifully. 

" _Hold please_ ," Connie practically shouted into the phone as he pressed the mute button. "ARMIN. Armin. Can you name this voice?" He took a few breaths to collect himself. First, Connie placed the phone on speaker and un-muted his own mic. "I'm sorry, sir, there must be a bad connection. I didn't seem to catch your name."

"Oh, uh," a painfully familiar voice began. Armin felt his jaw drop and his eyes widen, and from what he could see Connie was in the same state of disbelief. "Eren Jaeger and I'm calling because-"

Armin nodded his head with so much vigor that his hair fell from the knot at the back of his head and Connie screamed. 

" _Holy fuck hold again, please,"_  this time, Connie did yell into the receiver before he lunged in Armin's direction and took him in a hug that lifted Armin off his feet. "We fucking did it, dude!"

"We did!" Armin cheered on the tail of joyous laughter. 

"Shit," Connie said, breathless, "shit, dude. You wanna take it?"

Hesitantly, Armin nodded, took the phone in his hand, clicked off speakerphone, and tried his best to collect himself in his state of disarray. His heart hammered in his chest, and he wasn't entirely sure where to go from here.

They'd tried so hard, waited so long, and Armin hadn't formed any semblance of a plan for sparking a friendship outside of their professional relationship. His hopes nearly took a plunge. "Sorry for your wait, we--"

"Armin?" Eren's fuzzy voice seemed to pick up an ounce of excess joy that made the butterflies in Armin's stomach work double-time. "Is that other guy okay?"

"He's fine," Armin watched as Connie undoubtedly called Sasha from his cell phone, "we're all great, actually."

"Yeah?" Eren asked; he seemed sincerely relieved. "Good. He seemed kind of, well, panicked."

"More excited than anything else," Armin dismissed.

Eren snorted. "Excited? What is there to be excited about? Does he love his job that much?"

Armin swallowed hard and began twining his fingers through the phone cable. "Yeah, we're all pretty concerned."

"I must be the luckiest man in the world, then. To have _two_ people willing to help me this late at night," Eren's words came wrapped around a smile.

"I might fight you for that title," Armin laughed and covered his face with his hands, phone propped between his shoulder and ear. Connie watched from across the office with a big smile and wide doe eyes, phone glued to his ear. When he caught Armin eyeing him, Connie gave an encouraging thumbs up. 

"I'm glad I got you in the end, though," Eren admitted, "I was almost disappointed that someone else was there this late."

"We're just dedicated people," Armin amazed himself by how steady his voice was despite the way his chest squeezed and restricted his breathing. 

"Clearly, I'm almost worried you're a robot," when Eren laughed, Armin melted. "That would be pretty cool, though, right? To say I'm friends with an actual robot."

Armin's cheeks were beginning to hurt from how hard he was biting them to keep composure. "You'll have to call and harass another hotline. We're fresh out of robots."

"Well, hey, maybe if I leave my name and number you can call me when you get more in."

"Maybe, I'll consider it," Armin felt his face grow substantially warmer, and was sure his heart was on a mission to break at least two ribs at the rate it was beating. 

"Here, how about," Armin heard Eren clamoring around whatever space he was in. Slamming drawers and the creaking of old floorboards took up the space where silence would have been. "You can give me like an extension number or an email or a business phone number or something, just so I can call and remind you. Probably daily."

 _Hopefully daily,_ Armin thought. "I have an email," Armin offered.

"Nice!" Eren cheered, "am I allowed to have it?"

"It's through the company," Armin said.

"So no nudes?"

"I was going to say that since it's through the company I can give it to anyone who calls in," Armin laughed, "but you're right. No nudes."

Connie whipped around so fast, Armin was sure he'd given himself whiplash. 

"Just when I was starting to get confident," Eren joked, "I understand the terms and conditions."

 Once he'd confirmed that Eren had something to write on, Armin recited his email address as clearly as he could. Eren read it back with excruciating slowness to confirm he'd gotten every letter, number, and symbol perfectly. 

"Sweet, I'll use this information responsibly," Eren promised.

Armin hummed softly and rested his cheek in his palm. "Y'know, I've kept you on the line for ten minutes now and haven't even asked you what you needed help with today."

"Nothing, actually," Eren sounded the most nervous Armin had ever heard him, "I just, uh, wanted to call and check in."

"You know, I'm not always here," Armin smiled, already far too fond. "You could've reached someone else. Unless you're just that concerned about all of us."

"No one knows that better than me, Armin. Who's the one that's called 73 times?" Eren cleared his throat. "And, the concern doesn't move very far past you."

"You're hopeless." Armin hoped he didn't actually sound as squeaky as he thought he did.

 "I think the word is smitten," Eren laughed, "anyway, I won't hold you and the excited guy up anymore. Have a good night, Armin!"

Eren said his name like a friend, and Armin felt his brain turn to mush as he muttered something that vaguely resembled a goodbye before the line went dead. 

 

"Get in there, dude," Connie sauntered across the room, shoving his phone in his pocket as he pulled Armin onto his feet. "Sasha almost cried, by the way."

"She's not the only one," Armin meant to joke but his tone was laced with enough sincerity that even he felt the need to cringe. 

Connie jabbed him in the side with a boney elbow. "Those tears were well earned," he said as a form of comfort. 

Silently, Armin nodded, and they fell into step with one another trekking back to Armin's apartment wordlessly. 

 

Connie opted to stay the night. He flung himself on the couch immediately upon entering the front door and ripped the blanket from the back of it to nestle himself into. 

"I want to be here in case he uses the email for good," Connie explained while looking at Armin who sat at the end of the sofa. Connie had allotted him very little room, but Armin didn't protest.  

"You're just hoping for the nudes," Armin chastised playfully.

Without argument, Connie gave a loose shrug. "I probably wouldn't complain."

"Gross," Armin slapped Connie's thigh as he pushed himself onto his feet and made way to his bedroom. "Goodnight, Connie."

"We'll see who's gross when he sends 'em," Connie called and was cut off by the slamming of Armin's bedroom door. Armin could hear Connie's bubbling laughter, muffled through the closed door, and Armin found himself laughing right along side of him in due time. 

 

At one in the morning, Armin's phone chirped. 

Initially, Armin was sure it was Connie sending yet another wrong Facebook profile. But, when Connie thundered through his living room and burst into Armin's bedroom with a rabid look in his eyes, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Is that an email I hear?"

Groggily, Armin pushed himself up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he reached for his phone. 

When Armin nodded his confirmation, Connie flung himself into bed next to Armin.

"Shit's about to get so real," Connie whispered with his chin propped on Armin's shoulder. 

"I know," Armin whispered in return. Anxiety pooled in his stomach, but he barely acknowledged it past the nervous energy that raced through his veins. "Here goes nothing." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you all know it, but I have a tumblr account if anyone is interested!  
> Find me at kagieyama.tumblr.com and talk about eremin with me  
> please


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren has a crush and no belief that he has a chance. Armin has a crush and no intention of making things weird.   
> Good think they have helpful friends willing to do the dirty work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SO SO SORRY THIS CHAPTER TOOK A LITERAL MONTH  
> I'M SO SORRY  
> CRUCIFY ME AT WILL
> 
> I hope you all like it anyway

Eren Jaeger really hadn't intended to send his first email to Armin at one in the morning. He also hadn't intended on coming across as crazed and panic-ridden. But, then again, sending a half-naked picture of himself to his boss in place of an important business file really wasn't part of his initial plan, either. Eren's life was nothing if not one big fuck up after another. He'd long since embraced it, but that didn't stop the initial panic. 

Frantic fingers tapped viciously against his phone's screen. 

 _(12:57am **Eren Jaeger** ):_ PLEASE HELP ME

Seconds elapsed and he was rewarded nothing for his cries for help. Anxiety had his fingers thrumming against his thigh, against his bed, and against his cheek. Restlessly, he flung himself across his bed. 

 _(12:59am **Eren Jaeger** ):_ ARMIN IK U PROBABLY ALREADY REGRET GIVIN ME UR EMAIL BUT HELP A BROTHER OUT HERE.

Eren figured excessive caps lock could do nothing but help his cause at this point. 

 _(1:04am **Eren Jaeger** ):_ IT'S EREN BTW u know the one!!!

 _(1:04am **Eren Jaeger)** :  _ Would u believe me if i said i sent a very.... um not safe for work?? picture to my boss and need immediate assistance before i literally die like literally 

Erratically, Eren switched between his texting and email apps before finally falling back into a new email template. 

 _(1:13am **Eren Jaeger)** :_ bro... listen... i will sell u my left kidney if you respond right now.... i will give you the deed to my house... i will give you my blessing to take jean as ur wife 

Without warning, his phone locked up. The keyboard froze, the battery felt like fire, and the screen went black with a final goodbye vibration. Eren groaned; a sound much like a beached whale or mewling cat in heat came straight from his chest as he fell face first into his bed. 

The unmistakable sound of a fist pounding drywall punctuated his whining. 

"Jaeger," Jean was speaking through his teeth. Eren sighed. "I don't know what you're doing in there, but I know what it sounds like, and I'm going to have to ask you to pipe the fuck down." 

"Gettin' all hot and bothered there, Jeanbo?" Despite most of his words being trapped in the pillow he laid face down on, Jean apparently understood him clearly. 

"Hardly," came the snarky comeback, "considering shoving knives in my earholes actually." 

"Kinky."

Eren didn't fail to catch the heavy sigh coming from the adjoined room. "Just shut the hell up, Eren, and don't be surprised if you wake up tomorrow to me shoving your head in the toilet."

"Do you always get this violent when you're horny?" Eren asked though the largest portion of his attention was dedicated to trying to nurse his phone back to life, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he mashed the power button yet again. 

"GOODNIGHT, EREN."

"A simple 'yes' would have sufficed, Jean." When Eren wasn't granted a response from the other side of the wall, he grumbled an irritable goodnight and pressed the power button yet again. The phone had cooled significantly during his back and forth with Jean and after elongated seconds of nothing at all, his mobile vibrated weakly and the screen reluctantly flickered back to life. 

Eren screamed triumphantly, phone held high above his head as if it were the next king of the Savannah and Jean, naturally, slammed a fist against the wall again. This time it was violent enough to rattle the portraits hung on Eren's walls. 

"I swear to God-"

"Sorry, sorry!" Eren said more out of habit than sentiment. His phone chimed three times to alert him of a slew of incoming emails, and Eren, in his surprise, dropped his phone from where he held it proudly in the air. It bounced once off his head, and once off his bed until it came to a loud halt as it clattered against the floor. Eren scrambled over the side of his bed in pursuit and fell in a graceless heap in the floor. He opted to stay in the floor to prevent further tragedy as he navigated his email app. 

 _(1:24am **Armin Arlert** ):_ Eren, I'm afraid there isn't much to do about a text message that has already been sent **.**

He couldn't really deny the way his heart deflated in his chest despite already knowing that would be the case. There were two other messages though, all from the same sender. Curiously, he clicked through them. The second read:

 _(1:26am **Armin Arlert** ): _ D UDe sned the pic!! jkbfoeripn gjekrionp,,,,,,,,,,

Followed by

 _(1:26am **Armin Arlert** ):_ WAIT NO. NO. DON'T. That was a friend, and I'm very sorry about that. 

 _(1:29am **Eren Jaeger** ):_ suuuure. it's just because this is the work email, right? ;) ;) is it the friend i talked to today??

 _(1:32am **Eren Jaeger** ):  _ WAIT UR STILL AT WORK?

 _(1:35am **Armin Arlert** ): _ No, I receive my work emails on my phone. And you did meet Connie today. He's a pistol.

 _(1:35am **Eren Jaeger)** :  _ oooooooh. riiiight. should've known u never take a break... speaking of breaks why arent u sleeping?

 _(1:37am **Armin Arlert** ):  _ I'm talking to you currently.

 _(1:37am **Eren Jaeger** ):  _ oh!! i'll let you go! i'm just gonna be busy digging my own grave anyway. can i live with you when i'm jobless and hungry?

 _(1:43am **Armin Arlert** ):  _ My floor is carpeted and makes for an exceptional bed. I'm sure it won't be that bad, though. You might even catch a promotion.

 _(1:45am **Eren Jaeger** ):  _ i'm more likely to catch these hands but it was nice talking to you from death row! gn armin

 _(1:52am **Armin Arlert** ):  _ Good night, Eren. Connie says he wishes you the best.

_(1:53am **Armin Arlert** ): _ He also said to tell you he loves you.

 

Flattered and fully prepared to meet the face of death, Eren pulled himself back onto his bed and kept his phone tucked under his pillow. Two hours passed and Eren had long since fallen asleep before a vibration startled him awake, signaling an email that waited for him. Blinded by the grogginess of sleep, Eren lazily raised his phone to his face and squinted against the harsh light.  

 

 _(4:23am **Armin Arlert** )_: Yo dude listen Armin is asleep and i gotta let you know that the request for that picture is still on the table.

 _(4:24am **Armin Arlert** )_: if he finds out i sent this i'm gonna die

 _(4:24am **Armin Arlert** )_: don't let me die in vain bro

 _(4:54am **Armin Arlert)** : _ By the way.... u gotta facebook?

 

**~~~**

Armin awoke to a disaster and an 8x11 inch print out of a face that looked unmistakably like Eren's staring down at him from the ceiling. When he bolted upright, another poster of the same face watched him from across the room. 

Initially, Armin was confused, but upon hearing someone skittering around outside his room and the unmistakable sound of Connie's maniacal laughter, Armin was on his feet in a hot second. 

"What did you do?!" he barked immediately after ripping his door open. Connie stared him down, a deer caught in the headlights. He wore rolls of tape like bracelets and toted a stack of print outs half an inch thick, all of which wore a very familiar face. 

"Redecorated a little," Connie said, dripping innocence. "Your place was a little boring."

"I'm a little boring, it worked out well like that," Armin said unimpressed, arms folded across his chest. 

"Are you always this snippy in the morning?"

When Armin didn't warrant his question worth comment, Connie rolled his eyes and sighed. "Tough crowd." 

"All I'm asking is how you got those," Armin rubbed at his temples as he fell into the couch. 

Connie sucked in a gasp and rested a hand against his heart. "My incredible, amazing sleuthing abilities pulled through in the end. I'm hurt that you would think otherwise, Armin. We spent three weeks looking, and I finally-"

"And now I want the truth," Armin intercepted Connie's winding and unending train of thought.

"Stole your phone and asked your boyfriend for pictures," Connie admitted, smile turning more and more wicked the wider Armin's eyes got. 

"Not my boyfriend," Armin said more defensively than was probably necessary. "He did know it was you, right?" At Connie's lack of response, Armin's voice grew cold despite the obvious heat in his face as it inched up his neck and blossomed across his cheeks. "Right?"

Connie, enjoying his new role as the enemy shrugged, "that wouldn't have been nearly as fun."

" _Connie!_ " Armin shrieked as he fell over himself while sprinting to his bedroom. A few loud clatters and curse words later, Armin came out toting his phone and wearing a look of betrayal. A new picture of Eren had been made his phone's wallpaper. An awkward thumbs up was thrown in Armin's direction, and Connie winked. 

"That's pretty gay, bro," Connie commented in monotone as he resumed his job of taping paper to Armin's apartment walls. 

"You did this," Armin hissed before folding into himself on the couch again. 

"I made you gay? I'm flattered to say the least."

Rolling his eyes, Armin scrolled through the seemingly never ending list of emails he'd accrued over the week before finally finding the thread with Eren. His eyebrows knit in concentration as he reread the messages, hunting for where his ended and Connie's began. 

  

"He doesn't seem like your type," Connie commented, his voice breaking Armin's attentiveness to the messages in question. Silence around Connie was never an option, he'd always find a way to fill it with words, laughter, fart noises, and otherwise. Sighing heavily, Armin peaked past his eyelashes, he saw Connie holding one of his posters at an arm's length. Despite the distance, Armin could still make out bronzed skin, a backwards snapback, and a skateboard perfectly lined with bare shoulders from the picture.

"I feel like he's a type that anyone could get behind."

Connie wiggled his eyebrows. "I'd get behind that."

Armin's face contorted into one of disgust. "And you have the audacity to claim to be straight."

Shrugging, Connie scraped a chair across the floor and into the bathroom where he hung another print from a high vantage point. "Listen, we all have our exceptions."

Finally, Armin laughed and Connie beamed in return. "Hey," Connie said, "once I finish hanging these, you wanna go get some coffee or something?"

"Sure," pushing himself back onto his feet, Armin flicked the pages Connie cradled when he walked past, "how many of those did you print, anyway?"

"187. You printer isn't very cost efficient in the ink to prints ratio."

Hands cradling his face, Armin shook his head. "Jesus take the wheel. Just hurry up." When his bedroom door slammed closed, Connie bellowed with laughter.

 

With his hair knotted messily behind his head, Armin took to combing through his closet. Peaceful minutes passed completely undisturbed, and Armin had almost forgotten about his company. As if on cue, a shrill scream split the air followed by the sound of Connie plummeting into the bathtub and yanking the shower curtain down in the process. The sound of paper fluttering delicately to the ground mingled with the those of pained groaning.

Armin found it hard to deny the swelling sense of satisfaction he felt. He even muttered thanks to Karma when he heard Connie shouting something about suing for unsafe working conditions. 

 

By the time Connie had hung all 187 of his posters and had gotten suitably ready to face the day with 'swagger', the clock had already struck noon. 

"I'm hungry," Connie complained as he and Armin walked to town. They'd been walking for five minutes and Connie had already attempted hitchhiking twice only to have Armin slap his hand out of the air. "God, it's hot."

Armin offered a soft, huffing laugh as he rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. "So coffee is a no go?"

Horror stricken and sweaty, Connie turned to gape at Armin. "You're not seriously still considering coffee as an option."

"Yes," Armin replied curtly, "it's a nice day for it."

"I always knew you weren't human," Connie grumbled as he stripped out his fall jacket and tied is fiercely around his waist. "Having a cyborg as a best friend is only cool in theory," he grumbled as he stomped on. Armin fell in step without another word. 

 

Connie lay sprawled out across a picnic table, limbs splayed wide and McDonald's meal balanced on his stomach. This was Connie in his element. Armin sat on the bench seat sipping black coffee and watching as people passed by. Kids squealed and pointed as the playground came into view, and parents were reluctantly towed into checking it out. 

Couples sat scattered around with blankets and picnic baskets. A few kites poked above the tree line and dogs barked and panted from somewhere to the far right. Richly colored autumn leaves blanketed the grass.

"When you first met Eren," Connie begin, and Armin sat upright, coffee suddenly far less interesting, "did you know he was going to be important to you?" Unceremoniously, Connie crammed a handful of fries into his open mouth while he waited for Armin to speak. 

Eyebrow raised, Armin's head fell to the side. "He was just a customer, and I was just doing my job," Armin answered and it was close enough to the truth to be passable. "I don't think it happens any other way."

"Untrue," Connie objected, he pried his eyes away from the rolling clouds he'd been watching for ten straight minutes and studied Armin. "One time this Cougar called and told me I sounded cute. Let's talk about true love for a second."

Armin felt his serious demeanor crack before he heard the laughter spilling past his lips and felt tears sliding down his cheeks. "Not all of us are that lucky, Connie," Armin sniffled, rubbing at his eyes as he fruitlessly tried to collect himself. "You're just a man who knows what he wants."

Cracking a smile himself, Connie smirked. "I could be making such good money right now."

"But at what cost," Armin pondered.

"Just my dignity," Connie answered as if he'd thought it all through beforehand, "and let's be real, I don't have much of that to spare anyway." 

"Too true."

"Shut the hell up," Connie bit with no real sting. "Why is he so important to you?" Connie didn't sound hurt, disgusted, or skeptical. Just genuinely curious.

Armin ground his teeth, contemplating. His fingers pressed into his coffee cup just a little stronger. "He's... he's like a breath of fresh air. He's loud and he talks too much and he's confident and always, always in good spirits. He's been so dedicated to finding me again, and I don't even know why. I can't see why I'd be worth the time and effort."

"He's a lot like me," Connie laughed.

"Yes, well," Armin made a sweeping motion over Connie, "Sasha got to you first, though, didn't she? I just have to take second best."

Connie smirked.

"I can't explain it, to be honest with you. He's just exciting." Armin pressed his lips together in a hard line. "He makes me excited. He makes everything feel alive and okay. He's a wildfire in the dead of winter. Eren is something I never knew I needed, and now I'm not entirely sure I would want to go without."

"And here I thought that was impossible," Connie pondered. "To get you to care that much about something."

Armin laughed, muffling it in his sleeve and disguising it in a cough. "I stopped caring for a long, long time. About everything. About everyone. But, it's all coming back to me now." He swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened him with tears. "Thanks, by the way, for, uh, staying with me. Through all that."

Connie suddenly turned serious, eyes dark and focused. "I never considered ditching you for a second, bro. We're best friends. You and me against the world."

"Against the whole world? We're gonna lose."

"Oh hell yeah. We'll get our asses pummeled. But we'll do it together."

Armin snorted and hurriedly wiped at his eyes. "Comforting."

There was a comfortable lull in the conversation. Connie relaxed and re-assumed his laying position and Armin had begin ripping his coffee cup apart, before Connie had thought of something new to say. 

"Me and Sasha are going rollerblading tonight. Wanna come?"

"Ah, no. Third-wheeling isn't my favorite pass time." Armin offered his warmest smile as consolation. "I appreciate it though."

"Actually, you'll be the fourth wheel." Armin watched in amazement as Connie spoke past half of a burger and a straw. 

Armin squinted. "I mean, I know I dropped out of college, but I can count to four. I think your math may be wrong."

Adamantly, Connie shook his head and released a loud burp before offering any explanation. "It was Marco's idea. Something about man hunting and skates doing something for his legs. Those were Sasha's words, by the way, not his."

"I figured not."

"Sooooo?" Connie brushed the remnants of his lunch off his chest and flopped over to prop himself on his elbows. "Make us whole, Armin. Make us a four-wheeler." 

"Four-wheelers are flashy and used by tools," Armin propped his elbow on the table, chin in palm. 

"It's a perfect symbol for us, right?"

"Are you calling me a tool?"

"To be fair, you called us one first." Connie poked a finger into Armin's chest. "Yea or nay?" 

Without second thought or regret, Armin caved. "What time are you guys planning on heading out?"

"They can meet at your apartment," Connie said. When Armin offered a nod of affirmation, Connie whooped and hollered loud enough that the kids on the playground stopped to take notice. "I'm calling Sasha now," connie informed him as he jumped off the table top and nearly broke his neck during the rough landing. Not missing a beat, Connie scurried to his feet and dashed away, phone in hand. 

Armin was left to clean the mess Connie had made, as per usual. It was a good friendship they had going, regardless. 

 

Armin made Connie tear down his new decor as soon as they'd made it through the front door. 

"Dude I tape literal sunshine on your walls, ALMOST DIE IN THE PROCESS, and you want me to destroy it?"

"I didn't ask you to nearly die for the sake of home remodeling," Armin reminded him, sympathy zero to none. "Besides, you're the one who broke my curtain rod. I have to pay for that."

"You're lucky I'm not suing for improper working conditions," Connie muttered as he set to work peeling taped off the walls, "you're cruel."

"I paid for your lunch," Armin reminded him, "that's more than enough to cover the single band-aid you might need."

"I'm gonna need at least four band aids," Connie griped as he ripped his hard work off the walls, "one for my elbow wound and the other three are to mend my broken heart."

"So dramatic," Armin commented as he positioned himself on the couch. Two middle fingers rose high above Connie's head, and he disappeared into Armin's bedroom. 

 

Sasha arrived with Marco hot on her heels at just past seven that night. Connie was the first to make a mad dash for the door, arm outstretched and wearing an intensely determined expression as he ripped the door open.

The couple greeted each other by squawking and erratically waving their arms as Marco and Armin offered one another fond waves and relieved smiles. He hadn't thought much about it, but Armin almost missed Marco. A night out may not be such a bad thing in the end. 

 

"They're gonna die by the time this place closes," Marco observed leaning against a wall painted a harsh black with wild neon flames.

Armin hummed curiously and looked out to the rink where Connie and Sasha were partaking in their third race within the past fifteen minutes. They'd shoved two children and collided with one another in a turn in that same span of time. "Should we stop them?"

Marco laughed genuinely. "Do you have a death wish?"

"I'm gonna have to say no," Armin replied, wobbling closer to the rink and draping himself across the half wall to watch masses of people gracefully wheel across concrete. All the while, Connie and Sasha screamed, yelped, and cried out as they completed another lap unscathed. Armin wasn't sure when Marco had joined him, and when he spoke, Armin nearly jumped out of his own skin. 

"They're pretty cute, huh?" He wore a fond smile that bared all his teeth and highlighted the light blush across the apples of his cheeks.

"Sometimes," Armin agreed.

"How are you and that one guy?"

Armin stumbled back slightly. "You know about that?"

"Please, you discussed it with Sasha. Anyone who will listen to her knows about it," Marco bumped shoulders with Armin, and he very narrowly toppled over. He was beginning to doubt his judgement in agreeing to wear death traps on his feet. "You two are her favorite topic, aside from Connie of course."

Armin nodded. "Everything is okay, I guess?" He finally answered Marco's original question. "Not much has changed." He didn't mean to sound disappointed, but he did and Marco caught the way his tone was verging on almost sad. He swooped into the rescue, providing immediate damage control.

"That's not entirely true," Marco countered, "I head Connie found all his social media. You know a whole heck of a lot more about him now."

"He did?" Armin's head fell to the side, hair falling across his face and aiding in masking his confusion. 

"Yeah! He didn't tell you?"

"He was," Armin sighed, "uh, preoccupied this morning."

Marco snorted. "I have no idea what that's supposed to mean, and I have no desire to know, but I do have it pulled up if you were curious?"

Part of Armin's brain politely reminded him that he was a total creep for prying his way into the life of a man who only needed his tech expertise and knowledge. Of course, Armin heard those warning alarms, but the larger part of his brain was banging pots and pans together while reminding him that he didn't give a single care. The second part of him won out in the end. 

"I'm a little curious," Armin admitted, avoiding all eye contact. 

"You won't regret it," Marco said in a way that sounded like a promise. 

 

Marco was absolutely, 100% correct. Armin did not at all regret his decision to follow the gang and cyber-stalk the one person who trusted him most. 

He learned a lot in the thirty minutes they'd spent snooping. Eren surfed, and he was also pretty skilled with a longboard. He worked for a small hardware supplier owned by the girlfriend of his sister. He coached self-defense classes every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, and he was startlingly proud of the kids in his class. His favorite photo subject was a dog that Armin recognized from their very first meeting, and he always seemed to be most active online late at night. Armin groaned and allowed his head to fall forward against the table they found themselves seated at. He'd never wanted someone so out of his league. 

Knowingly, Marco patted the back of Armin's head as if he were a dog who craved reassurance through the means of petting. "He's the one who keeps coming back to you, remember? That's pretty promising."

Armin only groaned louder. By complete coincidence, dumb luck, or some combination of both, Armin felt his phone vibrate. The only thing waiting for him when he pulled it from his pocket was a new email. His heart seized up. 

Armin tried to reason with himself before he had a literal heart attack fueled by sheer anticipation and pumping adrenaline. Many people tried to contact him with business needs on the weekends. Never past 10pm, though. And never with in all caps accompanied by several exclamation points. 

Hoping beyond all hope, Armin opened the message, eyes scanning immediately for the sender.

Eren's name sent his pulse skyrocketing. "Speak of the devil," Armin said more breathless than he'd like to admit. 

If anyone else had been wearing the smile Marco was giving him, Armin swore it would've been smug, but that was never the case with Marco. It was a simple show of encouragement and steadfast support. Marco Bodt was an emotional cornerstone. "Told you," Marco's words were delicately wrapped in kind sincerity. Armin wasn't sure how he'd been able to befriend an actual angel, but he wasn't about to question his luck now. 

 _(10:24pm **Eren Jaeger** )_: I survived!!!!

 _(10:25pm **Armin Arlert** ): _ How about that promotion?

 _(10:32pm **Eren Jaeger** ): _ she was not impressed :( but she didnt hit me either so?? i guess that's a win?

_(10:33pm **Armin Arlert** ): _ Definitely a win.

_(10:34pm **Eren Jaeger** ): _ i kno right? can't damage the goods they're all i have to offer

 _Hardly,_ Armin thought despite knowing there was no way to articulate it  _without_ flirting. Suddenly, he wanted to bang his head against the table again. 

 _(10:42pm **Eren Jaeger** ): _ hey, how much do you know abotu phones??

_(10:46pm **Armin Arlert** ): _ Enough to get me by without any major malfunctions. What did you break this time?

_(10:47pm **Eren Jaeger** ): WOW r00d_

_(11:02pm **Eren Jaeger** ): _ pls come back my phone shit the bed and we need your help the offer to marry jean is still on the table

_(11:03pm **Armin Arlert** ): _ I'll pass. What's it doing?

_(11:06pm **Eren Jaeger** ): _ Its like? idk not working?? do u have a skype or smthng i need to show not tell 

(11:08pm  **Eren Jaeger** ): lol i'm telling jean how quickly he got shot DOWN 

 

"He wants me to Skype him," Armin announced. At first, Marco only offered an expectant stare as if waiting for Armin to continue. When he realized the statemement stood alone he nodded slowly.

"And you've never done that before," he verified without bothering to mask it as a question.

Armin nodded as the butterflies in his stomach made they're way of to batter his chest. "Right," he croaked. 

Marco laughed at Armin's visible distress, waving a hand in the air like it would prove this whole situation was no big deal. In one fluid motion, Marco pushed himself onto his feet and gliding to Armin's side of the booth. He hurled himself onto the seat with a soft 'oof'. "We'll do it together. Company tends to make everything less nerve-wracking."

Checking his Skype app not once, or twice, but four times to verify his user ID, Armin finally offered it to Eren with shaking fingers. 

"He's never seen me before," Armin said, anxiety reaching it's peak.

Marco hummed. "Well, he's about to be pleasantly surprised."

Scoffing, Armin bumped shoulders with Marco making the other man sway dramatically. "I'm marking this the end of  _whatever_ we have going."

"It's a friendship," Marco offered.

"It's not. Friendships require mutual liking on a personal level," Armin stayed resolute in his argument and mentally noted that his palms were drenched in sweat. His heart was lodged somewhere near his throat. Things weren't looking good. "I'm just like... his personal tech support."

"Armin, I might not know him, but I do know that no one, and I mean  _no one,_ is this bad with electronics unless they're 80 or have the hots for a certain IT guy. Or maybe both, I guess."

"Wishful thinking," Armin sighed.

"More like logical if you ask me," Marco folded his legs under himself, rollerblades taking up the majority of their shared space. 

"Never did-" Skype's personalized ringtone cut him off. When his phone vibrated, it struck Armin like an electric shock; he jumped a mile and it fell from his hands sliding across the table and buzzing on as Armin tried to collect himself. "Shit," he whispered.

"Someone's wound tighter than a two dollar watch," Marco commented, rather unhelpfully, as he watched the pandemonium unfold. 

" _Sh_ ," Armin hissed, scrambling for his phone and answering just before the last ring.

With Marco pressed against his side, chin propped on his shoulder, Armin held the phone up at a wide enough angle to capture both of their images. Marco wore a smile that was bright enough to give cataracts while Armin barely kept his panic at bay.

Anxiety pooled in his stomach, weighty and sickening, as he counted the seconds for the call to connect. 

 _One,_ would it be excusable if he were to piss himself at that very moment. Could anyone really blame him?

 _Two_ , why was he suddenly worried about his his breath smelled? Could Eren possibly sense bad breath from state lines away?

 _Three_ , why couldn't he stop fidgeting? Was he twitching?

Halfway through the fourth second, a grainy image of a man hunched over a pixelated rectangle that almost resembled a cell phone engulfed the previous blackness, and Armin squeaked. A pitiful, terrified, little squeak that caught the other man's attention and made his jerk his head upright. 

"There are two of you," Eren commented, moving closer to the screen. The green of his irises was piercing even in spite of grainy web cam footage and terrible lighting.

Marco nodded, and Armin was grateful because he felt paralyzed. 

"Both of you have to say something," Eren instructed wearing an easy smile as he reclined back in his chair. "I've spent a shameful amount of timing chasing a voice. I'd like to think I can recognize it."

"You just need a voice to go off of?" Marco asked, taking the reigns yet again. Armin appreciated him so much he almost considered kissing his face right then and there. Instead, he gripped the bottom of their shared booth to anchor himself and sat up straighter. The low quality of his front facing camera was doing a lot of favors for his appearance and he thanked every deity or otherwise that could hear him.

"Yeah!" Eren laughed, and Armin steadfastly decided that yes, that was his favorite sound. "You're not him, by the way. So that means-"

Armin not only watched as Eren's eyes drifted over him, but he  _felt_ it. Fight or Flight adrenaline kicked into overdrive, and Flight threatened to carry him off into the sunset before they locked gazes and Eren went slack-jawed.

Eyes wide and with a hand covering his mouth, Eren took a sharp intake that sounded like a hiss, and Armin allowed himself to mimic the same awestruck wander; meanwhile, Marco laughed, smile growing all the wider. 

"Shit," Eren's words were muffled into his hand. "You're blonde."

Nose scrunching, Armin laughed and bowed his head. "Astute observation." 

"You have hair," Eren continued, "and a face. And like... skin... oh my God."

Armin could deny none of these things, so he nodded again. "So do you," Armin huffed a laugh.

"I know! We're real!" Eren's brow furrowed, "I mean I know I'm real, but you're real and you're pretty. I MEAN not in a bad way is there a bad way to be pretty? I just mean that like... I don't know what I mean. What was I saying?" They locked eyes again and the tension fell off of Eren's shoulders suddenly. "Hi," he breathed. 

"Hi," Armin was back to squeaking. 

  

Silence fell over them as three sets of eyes wandered and fell upon one another, desperate for something to go on or talk about. Eventually, Marco clapped Armin on the shoulder and began to scoot out of the booth. "I'm gonna get something to drink. You want anything?"

Armin shook his head and watched with dejection as Marco skated away towards the concession bar. Armin heard Sasha before he saw her, and he knew Connie was close behind. Their group was mostly reunited and Armin was left alone. Slowly, he turned back to his phone waiting for their awkward and heavy silence to continue rolling on. 

Eren, though, was a life saver.

"So, uh," Eren swayed in his chair trying to peak around Armin and study his background, "does your house have disco balls and blaring 80s music normally?"

Armin laughed, genuinely and straight from his gut. "No! I'm at a roller rink."

"Ah, damn. That would've been sweet." Eren, in his grainy image, knotted his fingers together and rested his hands behind his head in a pillow of sorts. "You should've told me you were out," he scolded, "this is a rare occurrence. You. Out in public. Not doing work. With a  _boy_."

Armin rolled his eyes. " _Sorry_ , mom."

"Wait till I tell your father," Eren chided. Though his tone dripped in mock disappointment, the smile he wore was warm enough to eradicate the upcoming winter season. Armin saw stars. 

"It's fine anyway," Armin's heart beat a mile a minute and he was pretty sure his hands were pruning from the amount of sweat he'd produced. But, somehow the conversation came so naturally and Eren wouldn't stop  _smiling_. All of Armin's thoughts melded together into a string of senselessness, and he was beginning to feel airy. Had he stopped breathing? Did he even remember how to? "I don't skate." He paused. "Can't skate."

Eren gaped. "Really? I'll teach you! I mean," he stopped and stammered, "y'know, I would... would teach you if distance, y'know." He spread his arms in a vague gesture that almost evolved into a shrug. 

"That's okay," Armin reassured him, "I value not having a broken tale bone anyway."

"I won't let you fall," Eren was beyond confident.

 _Too late,_ Armin thought.

 

As it turned out, roller skating rinks were not the ideal place for Skype calls. The signal was terrible, the music was too loud, and the lights were too distracting. Also, the people were far too nosey. 

They'd tried valiantly to keep a normal conversation going, but when unsurmountable lag, deafening music and squealing laughter to boot, they had no chance. They had yet to even broach the topic of Eren's broken phone and already both of them were visibly annoyed. 

"Hey," Eren yelled for the third time, growing tired of being drown out by Crazy Frog. "Can I call later?"

Armin nodded and gave a thumbs up. "Later is good!"

There was a flash of a smile, a thumbs up offered, and then the call ended. Marco and crew made up for the lack of company immediately. 

They all came sauntering to his booth in a group. Both Connie and Sasha had linked their arms through each one of Marco's, and they wobbled like their legs could barely stand the weight. 

That didn't drown their obnoxious spirit, though. 

"How was the date?" Connie was the first to ask, closely followed by Sasha's need to point out that he was blushing. 

"It wasn't a date," Armin snapped, "and I'm just hot."

Sasha snorted. "A little conceited don't you think. Is that what  _he_ told you?"

" _No_ , because it wasn't a date."

"You flirted at a roller rink for God and everyone to see," Connie pointed out, "you made poor Marco here so uncomfortable with your PDA that he had to leave the area."

"That's not true," Marco argued. 

"I'm just saying it was kind of a date," Connie shrugged when Armin and Marco both glared. "I'm just saying."

Armin sighed. "Are you done?"

"Not really."

 

"Is Skype sex the next step in these sorts of relationships?" Sasha asked as they walked to the car. "I feel like that's the natural progression."

"Oh my God," Armin groaned, resting his head against the window and hoping the vibrations would be enough to concuss him. 

"It totally is," Connie confirmed. 

"Guys," Marco said from the driver's seat. His voice held just enough of a warning tone to sound paternal, and both of them piped down. Mostly. 

Connie, who had called shotgun, twisted around in his seat. "I can't believe it. You're growing up so fast." He sniffled and Armin shook his head, using a hand to mask the smile that threatened to creep up on him.

"Be safe," Sasha said, egging the situation on. 

Connie made a hip thrusting motion.

"CONNIE," Marco shouted.

"WHAT?" He fell back into his seat.

"Don't make me pull this car over."

"She started it," Connie jabbed a thumb over his seat and in Sasha's general direction. 

"And I'm finishing it," Marco said with finality. 

When Connie offered a glare over his shoulder, Armin poked his tongue out in return. Connie snorted and turned back to look out the windshield. No one said a word for minutes, each of them kept to themselves and looked out of their respective windows. Naturally, Connie was the first to crack in the quiet. A hand reached across the console and gently caressed the volume knob on the radio. When it became apparent that no one was going to make moves to stop him, he spun it as far is it would go, blaring a terrible 2000s mix CD.

Terrible must have been a selective term, though, because Connie wasn't just listening to the music. He  _became_ the music.

He danced with fierce rhythm and dedication to every Britney Spears, NSYNC, and Fergie song that played. The volume was ear splitting and rattle the entire chassis, and Connie hit Marco at least 3 times during his dance routine. Marco parked, and no one seemed to notice or care.

It was well past midnight when Armin finally spared a look at the dash clock. All four adults still remained piled in the beat up 90s model sedan, talking about anything and everything that came to mind with the goal of drowning out Connie's ridiculous singing. They bonded, they laughed. Sasha mentioned moving in with Connie, Marco expressed that he was considering returning to school, and Armin sat contently listening to the stories they shared. Connie was the one who finally had to ruin the moment, to no one's surprise.

At first, there had been peace, then the sound of Connie's uncontrolled laughter followed by noxious fumes.

"CONNIE, YOU ASSHOLE, AT LEAST WARN SOMEONE BEFORE YOU GO AND SHIT YOUR PANTS," Sasha yelled, the first to make it out of the car alive. One by one they fled the vehicle, dispersing in all directions until only Connie himself remained.

Victorious, he emerged from the car with his hands raised high over his head. Tears streamed down his face, and Armin wasn't sure if it was a direct result of the smell bringing him to tears or just the evidence of gut wrenching laughter. 

Either way, he'd earned it when Sasha slapped his arm. Armin followed suit immediately after, and Marco did this same. Bullying Connie was the true definition of bonding. 

Connie understood this.

"I deserved that," he admitted, rubbing his arm and falling into step with the group as they marched up to Armin's apartment.

"Yeah," they chimed unanimously. 

 

**~~~**

 

"I FUCKED UP," Eren announced loudly, slamming his bedroom door closed as necessary punctuation. 

Jean looked up for his bowl of cereal only looking vaguely annoyed at the intrusion. "What? D'you pull your dick out on the first date?"

"No," Eren huffed, pulling the bowl away from where Jean sat and plucking the spoon from his hand. "I complimented him by saying 'you have eyes' and then told him I was impressed that he was real," Eren explained around a mouthful of Cheerios. Jean watched his stolen food in disdain. 

"Is he that hard to look at?" he asked. 

"Dude," Eren groaned, "he's like an angel. Like, like, God forgot a cherub in the heavens and fuckin' slingshotted it down to earth."

"So... he looks like a fat man-baby?"

"You really aren't working with me here," Eren deadpanned.

"Well you're giving really shitty visuals," Jean pushed back in his chair and kicked his feet onto the table. "Besides, I was 98% sure you'd mess it up anyway. It's what you do."

Eren rolled his eyes before downing the last of the milk left in the bowl. "I've always loved your pep talks. You really know how to pick a guy up and brush him off when he's down."

"If you're looking for someone to coddle you, look elsewhere, Jaeger. When will you be able to talk again?"

"Tonight," Eren replied and suffocated the jolt of excitement that threatened to come barreling forward, "why?"

"You have time to write yourself a script," Jean joked though Eren was sure he expected it to be taken as solid advice, "or you have time to realize that he's stuck with you thus far knowing you're a fuck up. He was probably expecting it, and he might have even been flattered."

Eren hummed. "That was almost nice of you."

"Don't get used to it," Jean said as slung his feet back onto the floor, maneuvering around their cluttered kitchen to hunt down his lost box of cigarettes. "And stop hiding my shit," he warned when his search ended empty-handed. He tossed empty boxes and cartons aside in a last ditch effort, and still come up with nothing.  

"Not a chance, asshole. You die, and I don't get my rent money."

Rolling his eyes, Jean pushed past where Eren sat, and made a beeline straight for his bedroom. As he passed where Eren sat, he made sure to get a nice slap right to the back of his head. Eren yelped and Jean was silently pleased.

"Love you too," Eren called rubbing the back of his head.

"Bite me, Jaeger."

 

Eren spent half an hour just pacing. When would it be appropriate to call? What if Armin had changed his mind? What if his friend hadn't liked him? What if he made himself look like an idiot again? What if they ran out of things to talk about?

He walked the same circle over and over again, chewing his fingernails to nubs. 

No one had ever made him more nervous. It was a foreign and exhilarating feeling. Most people he met were either unbearable or unwilling to associate with him, but here Armin was all proper jokes and kind smiles and helpful demeanor. People like Eren didn't coexist with people like Armin, yet they meshed. They meshed well. 

Eren had no issue in dubbing Armin as the one person who would serve the world on a silver platter. Because that's what he deserved. Because he was lightyears beyond any of the people Eren had ever known or would come to know, and that was just the honest, bitter truth.

He struggled to choke it down. This would always be what they were. Eren would plead for help, Armin would aide him like any good business man would, and Eren would pine for days on end.

Nice.

 

A Skype messenger notification pulled him from his downward spiral.

(1:32am  **Armin Arlert** ): I'm home now.

(1:33am  **not your average jaegermeister** ): so ur okay with calling?

(1:33am  **Armin Arlert** ): Of course

(1:34am  **Armin Arlert** ): Also, your Skype name. Really?

(1:35am  **not your average jaegermeister** ): i'm intoxicating ;)

(1:35am  **Armin Arlert** ): Oh my God.

(1:37am  **not your average jaegermeister** ): lmao calling now

 

Swallowing every last one of his frayed nerves and laying his pride on the line, Eren hit call, sat back, and hoped for the best.

It was all he could do, anyway. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the first time I've switched perspectives like this in any of my recent fics. and I'm kind of on the fence about it? If you could tell me your thoughts I would be really grateful!  
> It definitely makes it easier to write long distance relationships though. (Thank God)

**Author's Note:**

> My stupid ass is swan diving right back into this fandom, and I'm dragging you all down with me  
> Buckle up, motherfuckers


End file.
